


Only A Paper Moon

by HouseofSannae



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Shameless Bardolatry, Songfic, the play's the thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseofSannae/pseuds/HouseofSannae
Summary: Some time after the events of Final Fantasy 9, Dagger drags Mikoto along to watch Zidane rehearsing a play.She has several questions.
Relationships: Garnet Til Alexandros XVII & Mikoto, Garnet Til Alexandros XVII/Zidane Tribal, Mikoto & Zidane Tribal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Only A Paper Moon

If you went down a small side street in Alexandria, you would find the entrance to a small, hole-in-the-wall theatre. If you went in, you would find a warm, inviting atmosphere, perfectly sized for a close performance at a reasonable price for a ticket. And if you went today, right now, you’d be able to see the amusing sight of Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII’s royal consort, practicing for a role.

The theatre was called home by the Alexandrian chapter of the Tantalus theatre troupe, albeit one that was focused on the theatre as their primary occupation, rather than thievery… but the less said about their less-than-illustrious roots, the better. It had seen a small explosion of popularity once it became common knowledge that it was the new home theatre of Lowell Bridges, formerly of Lindblum, and a much larger explosion of popularity when Queen Garnet began frequenting its opening nights.

Zidane Tribal stumbled onto the stage, as if emerging from a shrubbery. He shook his head. “He jests at scars that never felt a wound.” Something on the other side of the stage seemed to grab his attention, and he tilted his head, walking towards it. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

The words, of course, were lovely poetry. But one rehearsal-viewer in particular could not separate the words themselves from the man – Genome, technically – reciting them. She had, in the short time she’d known him, realized that he was entirely ridiculous.

She had only reluctantly let go of “idiot”.

Mikoto stared at her self-proclaimed brother, watching him prance around the tiny stage as if he owned the place. “Well?” said the woman sitting beside her. “What do you think?”

Mikoto looked over at Garnet Til Alexandros XVII herself, today dressed in casual orange and white clothes and insisting on being called “Dagger” – a name that Mikoto found strange, especially when “Garnet” was an option. She saw no reason not to be completely honest. “I imagine a good number of the people who come to these performances are drawn mainly by the sight of the Queen’s Consort acting like a jackass.”

“Hmm,” Dagger said, nodding. “I don’t think they’ve ever performed _Dream on a Midsummer Night_ , actually.”

Mikoto glared at her. At Dagger’s insistence, she had familiarized herself with the works of Lord Avon, Zidane and Dagger’s shared favourite playwright. The play Zidane was practicing was another by the same, titled _Capulet and Montague_. The play Dagger had mentioned involved a man being half-transformed into a donkey.

Meaning the Queen was teasing her.

Mikoto had never had a sister-in-law before, but then again she’d also never had a brother before, either. Years had passed since Garland and Kuja had been defeated, and the Genomes had started to adjust to living on Gaia, but Mikoto still found the people who called themselves her “family” to be rather odd and inscrutable.

“I did tell you that Zidane is a skilled actor, didn’t I?” Dagger continued, smiling politely at her. Zidane had left the stage, discussing something with the director.

“Playing a lovestruck idiot isn’t exactly a huge strain on his acting ability,” Mikoto said.

She was surprised as Dagger clasped her hands over her mouth, hiding a very unqueenly snort of laughter. What had prompted that response? Her statement had been objectively true.

“It might not be,” Dagger conceded, still giggling for no reason Mikoto could understand. “But he can do more than just play to his strengths.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Mikoto said.

“Oh, Mikoto, teach not thy lips such scorn!” Both women turned to see the man in question standing next to their table. Zidane grinned. “I’ll have you know I’m considered one of the greatest actors of the age. Just ask the Queen of Alexandria!”

“With all due respect to Her Majesty, I feel there might be some bias there,” Mikoto deadpanned.

Dagger giggled again. “There’s definitely a bias,” she agreed. Zidane grinned, and Mikoto rolled her eyes as they leaned into a kiss.

“Mikoto seems to think that you aren’t showing your full capabilities as an actor by playing a young man in love,” Dagger said, once they’d come up for air.

“Oh, really?” Zidane said, winking at her. Mikoto resisted the urge to sigh. “Then, rather than a lovestruck fool, what about a king on the brink of war, rallying demoralized troops?” He hopped back up on the stage. “Ruby? _Monmouth_ , act IV, scene 3, if you don’t mind?”

Ruby, the theatre’s owner and fellow Tantalus member, sighed as well. “From the king’s entrance?”

“Yep!” Zidane said, beaming.

Ruby rolled her eyes, then her face distorted into fear. “O that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in Lindblum

That do no work to-day!”

“What’s he that wishes so?” Zidane replied, walking up behind her and clapping her on the shoulder. His bearing and demeanour was completely different from the previous role. “My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:

If we are mark’d to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires:

But if it be a sin to covet smiles,

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from Lindblum:

God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour

As one man more, methinks, would share from me

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made

And crowns for convoy put into his purse:

We would not die in that man’s company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

Zidane glanced over at the table. “There’s more, of course, but I think I made my point.”

“If you insist,” Mikoto muttered. Next to her, Dagger was frowning.

“Isn’t the line ‘But if it be a sin to covert _honour_ /I am the most offending soul alive’?” she asked.

Zidane sat down on the edge of the stage, dangling his legs off of it and ignoring Ruby’s annoyed hiss. “Smiles are more important than honour,” he said, shrugging. “If I can take a fall and make the performance better, or make the audience enjoy it more, then I don’t mind looking like a fool.”

“That explains much,” Mikoto muttered again.

Zidane cocked his head. “Still doubting me, Mik?”

“I will concede that you did disappear into the role,” she said. “But a king is also not that far off from what you do on a daily basis, either. You’re the queen’s consort.”

“Explain to me again why I’m not allowed to be called your husband?” Zidane asked Dagger.

“That would make you the actual king,” Dagger said.

Zidane blinked. “Right. Forgot. Yeah, none of us want that, even if I _can_ play the role.” Dagger giggled again.

“There is a decided difference between acting and doing,” Mikoto said.

Zidane cocked an eyebrow. “Is there?” He stood back up. “Would you like to see me _act_ a bad king?”

“No,” said Mikoto.

“Sure,” said Dagger.

Zidane pointed a finger at Dagger. “Sorry, Mik, the Queen said yes. And more importantly, my _wife_ said yes. I gotta do it now.”

Mikoto glared at Dagger again, who fluttered her eyes innocently.

Zidane cleared his throat, and his body language changed completely as he bent ever so slightly over. “Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings;

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged war hath smooth’d his wrinkled front;

And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp’d, and want love’s majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail’d of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deformed, unfinish’d, sent before my time

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;

Why, I, in this weak piping of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun

And descant on mine own deformity:

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

I am determined to prove a villain

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots I have laid, inductions dangerous,

By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,

To set my brother Clarence and the king

In deadly hate one against the other:

And if King Edward be as true and just

As I am subtle, false and treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew’d up,

About a prophecy, which says that ‘G’

Of Edward’s heirs the murderer shall be.

Mikoto raised an eyebrow. “This man is a villain because he was born with a physical deformity?”

Zidane shrugged. “The scholarship is pretty sure it was deliberately designed to tarnish Gloucester’s reputation, to win the favour of the descendant of the people who overthrew him. It’s an exaggerated affair; he probably wasn’t anywhere near as bad a person as _The Reign of Gloucester_ makes him out to be.”

“Plus, his bones were found not that long ago,” Garnet added. “While he did have scoliosis, it would not have been nearly as dramatic as the play purports. It was written long after he died, regardless. Time enough for popular opinion to demonize an already-unfondly remembered king.”

“That aside,” Zidane said, starting to smile again. “What did you think?”

Mikoto tapped her foot against the floor. Her tail tapped against the side of her chair. “I will concede… you have some talent,” she said, begrudgingly.

“Hey now,” Zidane said, raising a finger. “I worked long and hard to build these skills, I’ll have you know. It didn’t come easy.”

“In between bouts of thievery?” Mikoto asked, sarcastic.

Zidane shrugged. “Hey, if you can con a guard into letting you into a castle, entertaining an audience is child’s play.”

“ _If_ you can con a guard,” Dagger said, amused.

“Hey, Rusty doesn’t count,” Zidane argued. “He was _barely_ a guard. _And_ I get past him _regularly_.”

“He did seem to get a whole lot less stressed after we got married,” Dagger said, thoughtfully.

“Yeah, cause he didn’t have to spend all night trying and failing to keep me out of your bedroom anymore,” Zidane said, winking.

Mikoto cleared her throat, and both of them looked back at her, chagrined. “Right. Um. Well, does this make you more interested in coming to a show with me?” Dagger asked.

Mikoto rolled her eyes. “No.”

“May I ask why not?”

Mikoto shook her head. “What is the point of all of this?”

Zidane and Garnet both frowned. “What do you mean?” Zidane asked.

“This! All of this!” Mikoto said, gesturing at the stage and theatre and the people scurrying across it from the surprisingly deep backstage. “Plywood forests and cloth fields, costumes of rags and badly-painted props! The plays themselves are well-written, but how can anyone overlook the ratty state of the presentation?”

“Well, that’s _my_ job here,” Zidane said. “To present what I have, with the tools I have, in a way that engages and entertains the audience. As long as the audience is enjoying the show, I’m doing my job.”

“But _how_ can it entertain them when it’s just… all this flotsam?!” Mikoto said. It had gotten easier for her to express emotions, now that she’d had practice, even if the results were sometimes embarrassing for her to look back on.

Zidane took it in stride, hopping down off the stage (and ignoring Ruby’s enraged hiss at his unsafe conduct) and taking an open seat beside Mikoto. “It’s called ‘willing suspension of disbelief’, Mik. The people who come here to see a show _expect_ our sets and props and costumes to be… rough, but they know that our performances are _still good_. You can perform Lord Avon in a back alley with rags for costumes and rocks for props. You don’t even really _need_ sets; the original stagings were bare-stage. Ultimately, although _we appreciate everything the sets, props, and costume departments do for us_ ,” he practically shouted, leaning towards the backstage, “the fact that our budgets aren’t all that high don’t matter.”

Mikoto was frowning. “But what of plays not by Lord Avon? That weren’t intended for bare stage productions, that require props and sets and costumes?”

“Well, the ability of the actors is still important there,” Zidane said. “But even then, we can get by on not-very-high budgets because the audience is willing to let us.”

“You could also have larger budgets if Ruby would just accept the theatre grants,” Dagger muttered.

“We don’t need ‘em!” Ruby’s voice echoed from over by the ticket booth. “The extra real estate and new stage were enough!”

Zidane shrugged. “Like I’m saying, people expect our productions to look a certain way, and they love us for what we are.”

Mikoto frowned. “I just don’t understand how that could possibly be enough.”

Zidane got back to his feet, and reached out a hand to her. “Here. Let me try explaining it another way.”

Confused, but willing to humor him, Mikoto took his hand and let him lead her back to the stage. He was about to jump onto it, before Ruby stepped between them.

“ _Absolutely_ not, use the stairs like a normal person!” she snapped, pointing over to the corner.

Chastised, Zidane led Mikoto up the stairs and through the side doors to the backstage area, entering from stage left. “What exactly did you want to do?” Mikoto asked.

“Well, a little something like this,” Zidane said, grinning. “Zenera, Genero, the one we’ve been rehearsing, if you please?”

Over at a small piano, one of the Nero siblings nodded, and began to play, while another lifted a trumpet. Mikoto watched in shock as Zidane started to dance, and was taken even further aback as he began to _sing._

_It’s only a paper moon_

_Hanging over a cardboard sea_

_But it wouldn’t be make-believe_

_If you believed in me_

_Now, it’s only a canvas sky_

_Hanging over a muslin tree_

_But it wouldn’t be make-believe_

_If you believed in me_

Mikoto was shocked further as Zidane grabbed her hands, and pulled her into a dance with him. “ _Without your love,_

_It’s a honky-tonk parade_

_Without your love_

_It’s a melody played in a penny arcade_

_It’s a Barnum and Bailey world_

_Just as phoney as it can be_

_But it wouldn’t be make-believe_

_If you believed in me_

Zidane slowly rotated them on the spot. “Ready?” he asked, and before Mikoto could tell him “No”, he started walking them forwards and back. The dance was simple, and Mikoto managed to pick it up almost instinctively.

Zidane spun her out, and without even realizing she was doing it, Mikoto spun back in, catching his hands again. “Right! Just like that!” he cheered. “ _Without your love_

_It’s a honky-tonk parade_

_Without your love_

_It’s a melody played in a penny arcade_

_It’s a Barnum and Bailey world_

_Just as phoney as it can be_

_But it wouldn’t be make-believe_

_If you believed in me_

_No, it wouldn’t be make-believe_

_If you believed_

_In me!_

Zidane spun her out one more time, and then fell into a kneeling stance, Mikoto being jerked back to perch on his leg. Dagger, still at the table, clapped hard, as did a few members of the crew who had been watching.

“Wha… what was that supposed to accomplish?” Mikoto stammered, jumping back to her feet.

“Well, how do you feel having _given_ a performance?” Zidane asked. “Looks like everyone enjoyed it.”

“Encore!” Dagger yelled, helpfully, and Mikoto glared at her again.

“But… I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t any good,” she said.

Zidane tilted his head. “True. Normally I wouldn’t shove someone onstage with no rehearsal. But, everyone knew you didn’t know the steps, and they still thought you did a good job, and they still liked the performance.”

Mikoto stared at him, his point making itself apparent. It didn’t matter that she was no dancer, that natural Genome grace and athleticism could only take her so far in a dance she didn’t know how to do. Everyone watching had been aware of all the facts, and they had still enjoyed the performance for what it was.

“It’s a transactional experience,” she said eventually. “The people come knowing what to expect, and you give them what they’re expecting.”

“At the very minimum, we give ‘em what they’re expecting,” Zidane agreed. “If we can pull some tricks they _aren’t_ expecting, give ‘em the old razzle-dazzle, all the better. But this is how people can enjoy a low-budget performance.”

“You want to tell a story, and the audience is there because they want to _hear_ a story,” Mikoto mused.

“Exactly! And all the staging is to service our telling of the story!” Zidane said, beaming. They’d come down from the stage (using the stairs) and rejoined Dagger at the table, who had been waiting with glasses of water.

“And because the staging is different in each production, each new telling of the same old story is slightly different,” Dagger added. “Maybe not _better_ than all other productions, but _unique_. And there’s value in that.”

Mikoto nodded. “I suppose… that being the case… I would be willing to accompany you to a performance at some point, Your Majesty.”

Dagger beamed. “That would be wonderful, Mikoto, thank you.”

“Hey, maybe you’d even want to try your hand at performing yourself, Mik!” Zidane said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Tell us the truth: you enjoyed dancing, didn’t you?”

Mikoto reddened. “N-no, of course not,” she blustered. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“The lady, methinks, doth protest too much,” Dagger teased.

Mikoto turned away from them. “I take it back, I will be unable to attend whichever night you decide on,” she said, stiffly.

“Now, now,” Zidane said. “If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended. We’re not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. Unless you think you _need_ that kind of push,” he added, smirking. “It’s what big brothers are for, after all.”

“You’re an ass,” Mikoto muttered.

“Does thou not suspect my place? Does thou not suspect my years? O that he were here to write me down an ass! But, ladies, remember that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass,” Zidane said, teasing.

Mikoto looked at Dagger. “How do you live with this?”

Dagger shrugged. “I do love nothing in the world so well as him: is not that strange?”

Before Mikoto could reply, Zidane cut in. “As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not: and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my sister.” He draped an arm across Mikoto’s shoulders and she rolled her eyes.

Dagger giggled. “By my sword, Zidane, thou lovest me.”

Zidane grinned. “Do not swear, and eat it.”

“I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.”

“Will you not eat your word?”

“With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.”

“Why, then, God forgive me!” Zidane pressed the back of his free hand to his forehead.

“What offense, sweet Zidane?”

“You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you.”

“And do it with all thy heart.”

“I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.”

“Come, bid me do any thing for thee.”

“Kill me,” Mikoto grumbled. “You’re not even playing the right parts.”

Zidane shrugged. “As long as the audience is entertained–”

“You’re really going to keep harping on that?” Mikoto asked, although she was privately slightly amused.

“Harp on it I shall until heartstrings break!” Zidane confirmed, beaming. “Now, where was I?” He thought for a moment. “Oh, right!” He turned to Dagger. “It is my lady, O, it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold, ‘tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven

Would, through the airy region, stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

“Are you ever going to get tired of quoting Lord Avon at me?” Dagger asked, amused.

Zidane grinned. “Depends. Do you love it?”

Dagger blushed. “Yes.”

Zidane bowed. “Then no, I never will.”

Mikoto sighed. “You could do better than the play about lovestruck idiots that sacrifice themselves because of a misunderstanding.” She thought about it for a second. “Actually, never mind, it fits perfectly.”

“Hey!” Zidane said, and Dagger burst out laughing again.

And, quietly, Mikoto smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am now, officially, back. ;)  
> Well, sort of. More on that later, let's talk about the fic.  
> As I said before when they showed up in KHΨ, I knew I wanted to do work with Mikoto the second she appeared on screen during my playthrough of FFIX, which was *checks calendar* over a year ago?!?! My how time flies. I wanted to work with the Tribal siblings, and I of course fell in love with Zidane and Dagger's relationship (the entire Final Fantasy series has only had one bad romance, I can say that with surety now that I've played all the single-player games. And even then it might be bias because I loathe one of the characters involved, hard to say).  
> I've mentioned it before, but I used to do community theatre back in high school. No Shakespeare, but rather musicals. So, in a way, writing this was pulling from a lot of fond memories.  
> I don't actually have a particular affinity for Shakespeare _ahem_ I mean "Lord Avon", but Zidane and Dagger do. And I had a _lot_ of fun picking quotes out of the handful of plays I've read that fit here. It's not just the ones written in verse! Keep a sharp eye out!  
> And, of course, because I'm me, I also had to involve lounge music. Like Aqua in Adjustments: Final Mix, this is another song covered by [the wonderful James Darren](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ep_6BVz0Gnk). I couldn't find a way to work it into the fic, but had Mikoto asked who "Barnum and Bailey" were, Dagger would have explained that they were notorious con artists who her great-grandmother had put to death for crimes of chocobo abuse. Changing titles and words around so that Shakespeare's references worked in FFIX was also a lot of fun.  
> All right, so, time for housekeeping. The reason you're seeing this fic now is that the first RWBY fic is, as of earlier this week, complete! I still have two more to write, however. So the plan is that once the second one is finished, you'll see the crossover fic (of Ace Attorney and... well, the clue's right where it was before :P), and then once the third RWBY fic is finished, that trilogy will start going up weekly, giving me time to get a head start on the next arc of Kingdom Hearts Ψ. Hooray!  
> In other news, I've been spending my Christmas vacation playing through Persona 5 Royal. I'm enjoying it immensely despite having seen a playthrough of the base game already (which means please no spoilers about the new content, I'm playing this version _to be surprised_ ), so this honestly feels like hanging out with a bunch of friends I haven't seen in a while. I'm having fun.  
> I think that's about everything, and as always feel free to ask if there's something you want more information on! Have a happy new year regardless of how you're spending it, and I'll be seeing you all hopefully soon!


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